


By Chance

by titansatemysoul



Series: Wayward Son, We're By Your Side (Prompt Fill Collection) [8]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood Era - sort of, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 15:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18527905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/titansatemysoul/pseuds/titansatemysoul
Summary: When Ignis gets stranded in Noct's apartment, Noct gets a second chance to fix some past mistakes.





	By Chance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xeiana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xeiana/gifts).



> _A White Day Gift for Xeiana_

Noctis is half-way through a bag of chips and his fourth consecutive hour of video games. Between the storm outside and the steady crack of digital gunfire he almost misses the click of his front door. Glancing at his phone, he’s just about to get up when Ignis appears from the threshold.

“I didn’t know you were coming – wait, what _happened_ to you?”

He’s soaked to the bone, everything from his jacket to his white button up beneath weighed down and dripping all over Noct’s floor, hair plastered to his forehead with rivulets trickling down his cheeks and neck.

“My car broke down. I was five blocks away.”

“Have you ever heard of an umbrella?”

“It broke.”

Ignis crosses to the kitchen, rummaging through drawers for a clean dishtowel.

“Bad day?”

“I’ve had better.”

Ignis wears a scowl, utterly glum and childish and so uncharacteristic that Noctis can’t help but be amused. He goes to Ignis, holding back the way laughter pulls at the corner of his lips, threatening to expose him as he takes the towel from his hands.

“Let me get you a real one,” he says sympathetically. Not so much so, he adds, “But don’t come any further into the apartment. I don’t feel like cleaning up after you.”

After bringing Ignis a few towels he looks for the spare clothes usually in the closet of the guest room. There’s a pair of glasses on the night stand, a few books and a watch. Nothing else.

“Don’t you usually have clothes here?”

Towel still hanging over his head, Ignis fingers his temple, looking down with his brow screwed up in frustration.

“Laundry,” he sounds completely deflated. “I was going to bring some tomorrow.”

This time Noctis does laugh. “This isn’t your day, Iggy. I guess you can borrow something.”

The dilemma is that Ignis is considerably taller than Noct and the rest of him one year and six months ahead. In boy-years it makes all the difference. Finding a top is simple; T-shirts are universal. Pants, however, are a problem.

“I’m cold.” Defying Noct’s orders, Ignis has migrated fully into the apartment, less saturated but still leaving a trail all the way to his doorway.

After another few minutes of rummaging Noctis finds the best option at the bottom of one of his drawers. Ignis eyes them with mild contempt, but he’s in no position to reject the pajama pants a well intentioned relative-by-marriage sent Noctis for his birthday.

“They’re too big on me, so maybe they’ll be okay.”

Noctis returns to the living room, throwing away the chip bag and a few soda cans while Ignis goes to dry off in the bathroom.

“You look weird,” Noct says when he emerges in Noct’s black T-shirt and navy print pajamas. It’s different from the matching button and bottom set that Ignis usually wears at night. His hair is dry, ruffled and kind of puffy from the hair dryer.

“I look like _you_. And I’m still cold, don’t you have another sweatshirt?”

“Just this one,” Noct replies sheepishly. “I haven’t done any laundry.”

“ _Noctis_ ,” Ignis lingers on the _s_ , running a hand up one of his arms to warm himself. Noctis is genuinely apologetic, offering him the one off his back instead.

“I promise it’s clean,” he assures him.

After over a decade together there’s little mystery between the two. There’s nothing Ignis hasn’t seen, and vice versa, so Noctis ignores the way his gut drops as he watches Ignis zip up his sweatshirt and pull it up around his neck. He’s gotten pretty good at ignoring that sort of thing when it comes to Ignis.

“How about we order food tonight?” Noct suggests. “Forget about cooking for once.”

Ignis agrees and together they scroll through a delivery app on Noct’s phone until they settle on a pizza chain combo deal. Half bacon and onion and half mushroom – all red roasted pepper because Ignis isn’t afraid to play the pity card.

Noctis almost got it right when it came to the clothes. _Almost_. He doesn’t notice until the food has arrived and Ignis goes for plates, reaching up into the cabinet while Noctis looks for the parmesan cheese. It’s unclear whether the pants are too low, or the shirt too short, but as he comes up from behind the refrigerator door Noct is presented with bare skin. Taut, pale and stretched, navel just visible under the hiked up worn hem of the borrowed T-shirt.

“Close the door, Noct. The food will spoil.”

After dinner, Ignis debates whether to return to the Citadel. The Crownsguard garage called halfway through their microwave-melted chocolate brownies informing him that he’d have to pick up a temporary vehicle until his own could be fixed.

“I have lectures in the morning,” Ignis weighs as he scrapes excess tomato sauce on Noct’s plate into the garbage. “I should really be there.”

“It’s still pouring,” Noctis counters. He offers Ignis the last bite of his brownie as if it’s a bribe. “You could catch a cold.”

“I’m not going to catch a cold.”

“Come on, I’ll write you a note if you end up being late,” Noctis teases, although if push came to shove that would probably work.

“Ignis, stay.”

-

Noctis rarely has nightmares anymore, but perhaps some of Ignis’ bad luck has been passed on to him. He’s wrenched from a dead sleep, fire and monsters still in his eyes as the covers gather around his waist. He curses under his breath, reacquainting himself with his mundane surroundings as a means to ground himself back in the present. It doesn’t help very much, and by 3AM he’s out of bed. He makes a point to be quiet for Ignis, asleep in the guest bed next door, on his way to the kitchen.

Outside, the springtime rain is unforgiving as always, drops beating against the balcony railing and metal HVAC unit on in the corner. It makes the apartment feel lonely rather than comfortably solitary. Noctis watches for a little while before he considers going back to his room or turning on the TV. As his eyes trail the apartment, he lands on the guest room. Ignis is the only one who ever sleeps there, even on the rare occasion that Prompto stays the night.

“Staying in Ignis’ room is _weird_ ,” he always says and then insists the couch is more comfortable anyways.

Noctis carefully opens the door, the creek of the hinge like thunder to the ear. Ignis is nearly hidden beneath the blankets, duvet pulled up high and hair splayed so that only the bridge of his nose is visible. He’s still wearing the sweatshirt, hood bunched up around his neck as he stirs.

“Noct?”

“Sorry,” Noctis whispers.

“What time is it?”

“Late.”

Ignis sits up on one elbow, raking the bangs out of his eyes, a bleary green.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m good. Just a stupid dream.”

“Really?” he seems to be slightly more awake, a little crease in his brow signaling his concern. “It’s been quite a while.”

“Yeah well, maybe I’m having some bad luck too,” Noctis laughs a bit. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Ignis always knows when to press or when to drop the issue. This is the latter, so he collapses back into his pillow, struggling to keep his eyes open. If he falls asleep, Noctis will have to leave. He can’t just stand there, but he also doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

“Can I sleep here?”

Ignis seems slightly taken aback by the request but doesn’t have the energy to have much of a reaction otherwise.

“Of course.”

Noctis mutters a _thanks_ as he goes around to the other side of the bed. He hadn’t expected it to be so easy.

“Aren’t you cold?” Ignis asks when Noctis climbs on top of the covers, tucking one arm under his pillow.

“I’m fine.”

Noct can feel a weight lifted off the mattress as Ignis gets out of bed, returning a moment later with a spare goose-feather quilt from the closet. He drapes it over him, a little uneven and completely over his head.

“Night.” Noctis mutters over his shoulder as Ignis climbs back into bed. For a moment, it seems like he’s already fallen back to sleep.

“Goodnight, Noct.”

Sleep isn’t as easy as Noct had hoped. Instead he falls into that middle space, plagued by flashes of almost-dreams. Of an excursion to the city in the dead of winter. Ignis had decided that since they were leaving before sundown, it wasn’t _technically_ breaking curfew, so he’d tagged along without protest. The cold meant Noctis didn’t look out of place hidden beneath a down jacket, hood and scarf. Whatever goal they had in mind is forgotten after a few wrong turns and missteps that drop them in the center of an unfamiliar district. It was an unexpected but welcome turn of events, a relatively quiet area with lots of little shops and restaurants dotting covered streets and winding walkways.

When the temperature finally seeped through their jackets, Noct let Ignis pick the restaurant. It had chipped paint and steam-covered dirty windows with only twenty seats crammed into a tiny space. The menu was sparse, all of it fitting on one ripped, stained piece of cardstock. Ignis ordered one of everything, and they talked around the clatter of metal pans and sizzling oil over flame.

Noctis can still hear it as a low siren in the distance pulls him back towards the quiet bedroom. He shifts onto his side with heavy lidded eyes. Ignis is on his stomach with his head turned away, the rise and fall of his back coming slow and steady. It’s comforting, the sound of his breath lulling Noctis back down.

They sat thigh to thigh at the restaurant counter, fingers brushing as they reached over one another to fill up their plates. Afterwards they ventured out on the street, sluggish but extremely satisfied, peeking through the windows of the bars just opening and shops as they closed. Towards the end, Ignis bought him something sweet and jelly filled from a stand on the corner.

Noctis had never thought of Ignis in _that way_ ; not consciously, at least. Maybe his feelings had always been there, finally choosing to reveal themselves in the moment that he leaned up on the balls of his feet and pressed his lips to the corner of Ignis’ mouth. Ignis was his closest friend first, retainer second and all at once something new.

Chest tightening, Noctis opens his eyes.

Ignis’ lips were soft and cool, a little oily from the food and tasted like their dessert. What he wasn’t expecting was for Ignis to tilt his head to one side, pull Noctis back by the jacket as he backed away and kiss him back. Ignis left the next day for a trip with his family which left Noct free to ruminate on the moment, replaying the scene and scrutinizing every second until he was spiraling into anxiety and fear. The potential for loss overshadowed everything else, so the day Ignis returned Noctis apologized. He was caught up in the moment, acted on impulse in the exact way that Ignis was always cautioning against. It wasn’t until later that he realized that he still lost Ignis in the way that was most important.

Somewhere along the line, the thought train turns into sleep. When Noctis wakes again, Ignis is already up, still laying on his back with his phone above his head, scrolling through morning emails.

“Sorry if I woke you,” he says as Noctis rubs the sleep out of his eyes.

“‘S okay.”

It’s a bit less okay when Noct checks his own device and sees that it’s barely 5:30 in the morning.

“You leaving soon?”

“Well, I’m supposed to.”

“I don’t know how you wake up this early every day.”

“Will power, Noct. All of it.” Noctis laughs. It may be partially true, but Ignis has always been a morning person. Then again, maybe it’s a relative term, considering how much Noct is decidedly _not._

“It is the weekend, you know. You could _not go_.”

Ignis gives him a look like it’s the most unconscionable thing he’s ever heard.

“Your father gave _you_ the summer, but not all of us are so lucky. Enjoy it while you can. He won’t let you alone forever, you know.”

It’s a warning Noct has heard many times. From Ignis. From his father’s staff. From everyone but his father in fact. He has people for that, not to be made the villain over an inescapable reality.

“I’m am enjoying it. By sleeping. But right now, you’re ruining it.”

Noctis means it; he always does when it comes to sleep.

“You’re a bad influence, Your Highness.”

“Only because you let me be.”

It’s been ages since they’ve been huddled up together, face to face. It’s a welcome interruption in the usual routine, a tiny rebellion against the Crown and a secret for them to share.

“You should go back to sleep,” Noctis tries to insist, partly for Ignis’ benefit but also very much for his own.

“You should try to stay awake. If don’t want to, perhaps you can go back to your _own_ bed?”

“I could stay up if I wanted to. You can’t kick me out now, Iggy.”

It feels something like when they were kids, competing to see who could stay up the latest. Ignis trying to prove something and Noctis simply not wanting to lose. Much like then, neither is very successful. They both drift in and out, closed curtains keeping time hidden behind thick navy canvas.

“What do you think we should do this summer?” Noctis says awhile later as if there’s a conversation still in progress.

“We? I have a job.”

“Yeah, but I’m the most important part of your job.”

Ignis snorts into his pillow, peering at Noctis with one raised eyebrow from behind the swell of his pillow.

“Along with a dozen other things, although I suppose you _would_ think that much of yourself.”

“If you don’t come with me, I’m just going to end up out in the city by myself,” Noctis reminds him. Though if he’s being honest, exploring on his own no longer holds the same appeal as it once did. “You just wait, Iggy. The council will have no choice but to make me your number one priority.”

There aren’t many opportunities for Noct to do for Ignis. Always self-sufficient and reluctant to impose in the few areas where he isn’t. Sometimes it seems like every aspect of his life is scheduled, right down to the meal. That’s the barrel they’ll both be looking down one day. If Noctis can put it off for Ignis now, he will.

“I just want to have a little fun. You deserve it too. You know you do.”

Ignis hums his acknowledgment as the exchange comes to its natural end. They’re silent for so long that Noctis thinks he might have fallen back to sleep.

“I had fun, the last time.”

The whole world drops out. Like taking a long fall in a dream and waking up with the sensation of being in midair.

“Me too.”

Noctis can’t look at him when he says so, afraid that if he does too much will show on his face or worse, come out of his mouth.

But then Ignis says, “Do you ever think about when you kissed me?”

All the time.

“Well yeah, sometimes.”

“Oh.”

“A lot, actually,” Noctis admits, forcing honesty no matter how embarrassing. “I think about it a lot. I’m…sorry.”

“You already apologized once,” Ignis sounds put off, annoyed even. Suddenly it feels like it’s about to turn into an argument and Noctis sits up, ready for it. He’s never seen Ignis so hurt before, confusion and sadness twisted up together on his face. It’s his turn to avoid, straightening his side of the bed and looking for his glasses. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep again. Why don’t I make us something for breakfast before I go? I really should check on my car before the end of the day, may as well get on with it.”

Noctis isn’t perfect, but he never makes the same mistake twice. Not when it counts.

“I was scared,” he blurts out, not exactly sure where to go but willing to say anything to keep Ignis from leaving. “I didn’t know what to do or say and if I did one wrong everything was going to fall apart. I didn’t want anything to change for us. And then I did it all wrong anyways.”

“It’s alright, Noct. I told you before that they don’t have to.”

“But now I want them to. I don’t want things to stay like this, Ignis. I like you.”

Ignis drops back onto the bed, ungainly like maybe his legs weren’t doing a good job of holding him up anymore. Noctis crawls over, still tangled in the blankets just behind Ignis. When he turns to look, Noct leans in.

He’s put himself at an odd angle. Ignis has to crane a little too far and Noct can’t move his head more than a few millimeters without straining the muscle in his neck.

They fit better once covers are kicked out of the way and Ignis shifts so that one knee is resting on the bed. Noctis opens his mouth, acquainting himself with the texture of Ignis’ lips on his tongue. He doesn’t mean to make more of it then that, but then Ignis has him by the nape of his neck, cradling his head and guiding him down until his head is cushioned in the pillow, sinking under the weight of the kiss. His lips parting so that Noct can slip inside. The moan that comes as he brushes the fleshy slick of his tongue takes them both by surprise.

“Sorry,” Noctis whispers, voice all husked and wobbly. “It felt good.”

Ignis shakes his head, closing his mouth to peck his upper lip.

“It’s fine. I liked it.”

-

“I’m glad I stayed,” Ignis says much later. They’re curled up together on the couch, TV on in the background. Noctis lifts his head, resting his chin on Ignis’ chest for a moment before leaning up to kiss his jaw.

“Yeah, me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ignoct is made for pining, don't you think?
> 
> Thank you for being patient with your pinch-hit, it's appreciated!


End file.
